Darkness, Lightness, Laughter, Cries: The Many Sides of Sirius Black
by siriuslybananas
Summary: OoTP all about Mr. Sirius Black, who is both a JOKER and a SAD SOUL with puppy eyes trying to forget his past. Read this for laughs and cries, exploding gifts, giant chocolate frogs, Redbull, drunken mistakes, tantalizing dreams, Ron bashing, psychological trauma, dementors and dark nightmares. HG/SB. You have been warned.
1. Prologue

Prologue

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><p>How on earth did it come to this?<p>

There was only him and Hermione in the room but every time they were together now,

the tension was palpable. He could feel it, as certain as he was sure she could.

Merlin's sake, the girl could even bloody look at him anymore for longer than a second

without becoming embarrassed and looking away.

Sirius himself, despite many more years of experience at this thing (and how he was supposed

to be the worldly one and all that exaggerated rubbish about his womanizing youth) was

equally flabbergasted. Despite his reputation, he could not be near her anymore without the

the metaphorical elephant in the room taunting his every word and every move. He couldn't be himself

anymore when she was around, not even to hold a casual conversation.

It was as if nothing else could be done or said until the truth forced it's way

out of the closet where they tried to keep it with the other skeletons of things unsaid and the

social taboo. Forced, being the keyword here, for there is no way

he would admit to this willingly. It crossed too many lines to count.

"Hermione, I-"

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><p>Author's note:<p>

Please review


	2. The Shadows in the Cave

CHAPTER 2: The Shadows in the Cave

"How could the prisoners see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?" -Plato, the Allegory of the Cave

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><p>The introduction of Hermione Granger into his life began gradually.<p>

After his rescue by Harry and, to a larger part, Hermione, Sirius did not get to see much of his godson or his friends. Or any other living human being. For another two years he ran from place to place, constantly looking over his shoulder. The world still thought him an insane mass-murderer and his face was plastered on posters everywhere, even in the muggle world. To survive, he ate unimaginable things and stayed in places only a vagabond would think of. It was a steep fall from his aristocratic past and yet not so far from the rough circumstances he had grown accustomed to in prison. Often times in Askaban, when there had not been enough to eat, he transformed into a dog and ate whatever roughage he could.

Insects, vermin, rats.

Things that no man should ever have to eat. Now that he was a fugitive, Sirius carried this strategy for sustenance with him.

While dwelling in a cave by the forbidden forest, rats became a substantial part of his diet. Then again the catching and killing of rats had a metaphorical value for a man who had been betrayed by one whose anamagus was a rat. Everytime he caught one, he thought, "Ah, here's one less that might be Peter and one less vermin for the world." Though the worst vermin he knew was still at large and entirely human.

It tortured him that he had gotten so close to justice, to killing Peter Pettigrew...Only to have his first, and perhaps only, opportunity for revenge...slip away. After so many years of fantasizing the moment, to have it come to nothing. Harry had been so unreasonably generous to the man responsible for making him an orphan. Though Sirius could not blame Harry for having the naive heart of a child. He had once had such a heart.

Yet the world would be safer without vermin like Pettigrew. If only Sirius had been able to kill him. It would be safer for Harry and anyone else alive he still cared for. For himself, it would mean he'd be able to sleep at night without waking up in a fit, drenched in cold sweat. The nightmare being that he awakened each time from his dreams to remember reality. To remember again that the happy world of his youth was the dream. That the nightmare was the reality. The nightmare, the life sentence, that was his life and continued to drag on.

Perhaps it was due to being malnourished but at times Sirius lost the plot completely. His worst memories would replay in his head until he felt himself unable to bear it. Though he tried to stop his thoughts, they continued until he wished for nothing more than to drill through his skull with a blade to make it stop. To have no memories at all, and no recollection of who he was. Memories were a wound that never healed but reopened each day and infected the rest of his being, weighing him down. At other times, Sirius questioned whether he was in hiding, or whether he was still in prison only imagining he had escaped and met his godson. In the dark, the cave was exactly like his former prison cell. Without Buckbeak's presence to reassure him, he felt almost afraid that when he awoke he would be back in Askaban.

On such nights he could find no rest until the sun rose again. As if the forest were a reflection of his mind, the return of the sun restored sanity to both him and the woods.

_Almost like a child,_ he thought pitifully to himself, _I've become afraid of the dark._

Or maybe it was because Askaban had always been dark, his cell untouched by the sun's rays. Sunlight, something so simple that most people took for granted, reminded him that he had freedom. It was one of the few things that filled him with hope. The other thing was Harry. But he could not see or hear from Harry on a daily basis.

Though every now and then, perhaps weekly, an eagerly awaited letter from Harry or one of his friends arrived. These small contacts kept him holding on. The arrival of a letter was enough to keep him happy for the rest of that day. Whatever small connection he had with the outside world kept him alive. Especially as his young godson, with the aid of Remus, tried to sort things out with Dumbledore for Sirius to be brought back into society as an innocent man.

Their earnest efforts reminded him that he was not completely forgotten.

Yet in between waiting for another letter, and half-starving to death, he sometimes slipped back into madness. Especially as night fell, he would begin to pace and entertain deluded fantasies of revenge and violent glory. Overwrought with savage energy, he went on rampages in his dog form. He would not stop until he had completely tired himself out. He would attack and maul any innocent creature he came across in the forest. He would continue to chew their bones in a frenzy, long after he had stripped the raw meat from them. After his rampage, he would finally fall to the ground in a heap and transform back into a man. Completely expired of energy and dignity.

A mere shadow of the man he once was.

Then just as he thought he was sinking irreversibly into madness, he was pulled back to the other side. Back to society and back to sanity. Sort of like a stray dog becoming domesticated again or, more accurately, a homeless fugitive becoming a well-kept house prisoner.

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><p>Author's note: The title is a reference to the Allegory of the Cave by Plato. If you ever took a philosophy class, you know it already, otherwise I HIGHLY recommend you read it. It's very short to read and is sort of like the Ancient Greek version of The Matrix.<p> 


	3. Homeless Fugitive to Housecat

CHAPTER 3: Homeless Fugitive to Housecat...er Housedog...

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><p>After an unexpected housecall by Dumbledore ("housecall" is a stretch because he was living in a cave at the time, so it was really a "cavecall"), Dumbledore was so shocked at his living conditions that he took it upon himself to look after Sirius' well being. About f'cking time, he thought bitterly to himself. Sirius had been unable to return to London since the Ministry added new spells to try to track him down. Dumbledore assured him that he would find a way around these spells so that Sirius could return to London and access the Black family wealth.<p>

Shortly after Dumbledore's visit, the news of what happened at the Triwizard Tournament struck. He did not hear it from Harry but from a short letter from Remus that left out many details. Remus told him that Harry was fine and not to worry if he read something about the Tournament in the paper and to stay where he was. Sirius tried to not worry himself to death while he wondered what this all meant. Dumbledore then came a few days later to tell him in full-detail what happened. Voldemort had returned and he had tried to kill Harry, barely missing. Sirius was enraged. The worst part was hearing that Peter Pettigrew was directly responsible in helping bring Voldemort back from the dead.

"I KNEW IT! I SHOULD'VE KILLED HIM. I SHOULD'VE KILLED THAT RAT BASTARD THE FIRST TIME! F'CK LOOK WHAT HE'S DONE TO REPAY HARRY!"

Dumbledore waited patiently for Sirius to calm down before putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Sirius, I wish I could've prevented this. But..."

Sirius shoved his hand off.

"When have you ever prevented anything, ever? This isn't the first time Harry almost died under your watch. Voldemort returned right beneath your nose and you did NOTHING!"

"I was not aware..." Dumbledore said with true remorse, his gravelly voice heavy. "Barty Crouch was thought by the world to be dead, we had no idea he was on the loose..."

They both paused. Sirius was still taking it all in.

"There's going to be another war," Sirius said quietly.

"Yes, it's inevitable now that Tom's returned...He has already recruited his old death eaters and has wormed his way into the Ministry. At this point, he's unstoppable..."

"You sound like you've given up this cause before it even begins," he snapped "We need to take Voldemort down now before he gets any more recruits. He's not unstoppable!"

"I wish it were that simple, Sirius. But we need to be level-headed."

Sirius barked with hollow laughter at Dumbledore's folly; it was the old man's fault that Voldemort was back, having done nothing to prevent it. Dumbledore was just so careless. Briefly the thought of going himself to try to kill Voldemort flickered through his head. But Sirius knew it would be difficult enough to get anywhere near Voldemort when the whole of Britain was after him. Talk about hunting the wrong man. Where were the wanted posters with Voldemort's face on them? Nowhere. Of course, the ministry was too corrupt to do anything about real criminals.

"We can't just wait for Voldemort to attack Harry again! He's only a boy! We, as adults, have to do something!"

"There's more to it than you understand," said Dumbledore "but I can assure you Mr. Potter is safe now. I have aurors guarding him day and night, subtly of course."

"What a relief!" said Sirius bitterly, "What else have you planned? A tea with the Dark Lord so you chitchat over old times with what do you call him, dear old Tom?"

"Sirius, I am sorry if you think I didn't do enough to prevent this but I am trying to catch up now, in more ways than I can disclose..."

Sirius yawned loudly but Dumbledore continued speaking as if Sirius had not acted so disrespectfully.

"...It may also interest you that I am reconvening the Order of the Phoenix, something I recall contributed alot to the cause the first time."

"And ended with half of its members dead," Sirius said stiffly, trying not to remember Dorcas' young and happy face the last time he saw her before she was killed.

"It was unfortunate..." Dumbledore said without the slightest emotion in his voice.

Sirius hand was twitching and he was barely controlling his anger beneath the surface. Dumbledore didn't give a damn about any of the dead Order members. He didn't mourn for them everyday the way Sirius did. He didn't have to keep seeing them in his dreams.

"...but I have high hopes for this time around. As you said yourself, Sirius, we must prepare for this war before it starts. And you'll be happy to know I have included you in these plans Sirius-"

_Oh, the fucking joy._

"-Yes, I have found a solution to both our problems that I think you will find is mutually agreeable."

Dumbledore explained his elaborate plans, including in minute detail how he would smuggle Sirius into London undetected by the Ministry. Sirius listened quietly, silently amazed and angered by the old man's ingenuity. _If the old codger knew how to smuggle me in, why hadn't the old fucker helped me out sooner?! Does he never lift a finger unless it is to further his own secret agenda?_

"In conclusion," Dumbledore said majestically "Once we have you in London, we will go to Grimmauld Place, you will open the wards, and Grimmauld Place will become the new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Also, you will be reinstated as a member. A sort of guard of the headquarters, you might say, though you should never leave."

"You have a deal," Sirius gritted, feeling like he had just signed over his soul to Dumbledore.

Sirius could not believe he was agreeing to go back to Grimmauld Place. He would essentially become a houseprisoner and a pawn in Dumbledore's game against Tom Riddle. But he had no other choice. So he kept his complaints to himself and went along with everything, grateful that Dumbledore had any plans at all that included him. Afterall, Sirius had been kept in the dark for two years, waiting.

He never wanted to return to that darkness.

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><p>True to his word, Dumbledore pulled a few strings and arranged a way for Sirius to make it safely back to London. Then they went straight to Grimmauld Place. On arrival, Sirius felt numb as he stood on the street between houses 11 and 13. The circumstances that had brought him full circle back to his childhood home were completely surreal. So many things had occurred since he last stood here, he was not the same person. He did not even want to see his childhood home, let alone stay there. But sure enough, as if detecting the blood that ran through his veins, 12 Grimmauld Place began to push aside the surrounding houses as it came into view.<p>

"After you," Sirius said.

Dumbledore chuckled. "The house knows whose its master is. No, I think I will have to follow after you."

Sirius could not deny this. As the last Black family heir, only he could have made the house reveal itself and open its wards. Yet he felt hesitant to move forward.

"My family dishoned me," he paused "How do I know they didn't change the wards since then, perhaps to attack me?"

"If that is the case, there's only one way to find out."

Dumbledore waved a hand towards the house, motioning for Sirius to dutifully move along even if it was to his death. Sirius marched towards the entrance. He knew his family was dead but he could not help whispering a hollow "I'm home" as he took a breath and opened the front door.

He was shocked as he stepped in. No longer was his ancestral home a gleaming, shining vestige of the Black family's noble status and vast wealth. The whole house was dilapidated and covered in dust with the furniture covered sheets. Mold was on the curling wallpaper where there had been a leak from the ceiling. _Black mold_, he thought to himself, _how ironic._

Dumbledore followed him in.

"This is worse than I remember," he said, trying to sound unaffected though his entire life felt like a weird dream.

Dumbledore took out his Deluminator and started lighting the various chandeliers and lamps. Sirius wandered ahead, aware that each step he took seemed to make the whole house creak with strange noises, some like the sound of footsteps. It was not like he remembered it from childhood.

"Did your family not have a house-elf?" Dumbledore's voice echoed among the creaking house.

"We did but Kreacher must have died. There is no way he would let the house fall-apart like this."

"That is unfortunate. Do you want me to send a house-elf from Hogwarts?"

"Perhaps...For now can you just send Buckbeak?"

He did not want to be here without Buckbeak by his side.

"I cannot come back today, but I will get Hagrid to retrieve him. This house will need added protection if we are to use it as headquarters but, unfortunately, we'll have to discuss that at a latter date."

Yet again Dumbledore lay a patronizing hand on Sirius' shoulder. _Was this supposed to make him feel better? Because it didn't. _Before Sirius could move away, Dumbledore disapparated with a pop. He was left standing there by himself, alone in the awful house. He turned his back to go upstairs.

Another pop of apparition.

Sirius sighed at Dumbledore's childish behaviour but was secretly relieved that he was no longer alone, "So your'e ba-"

He nearly had a heart attack when he saw Kreacher instead of Dumbledore there.

"Yes, master?" the old house-elf grinned evilly, fully aware that he had frightened Sirius, "Blood traitor bastard son is back. After he broke his mother's heart, to return here. Oh the shame, my poor mistress should never know..."

As if on cue, a very familiar voice started to scream shrilly from the entrance hall. Sirius could not believe his ears.

"You're supposed to be dead mother," he said shakily because it disturbed him to hear his mother's voice after so long.

Sirius walked back to the entrance hall with his wand out. His heart sank as his eyes fell upon the angry face of his mother. She was older than he remembered, quite a lot older. It almost startled him how much she had aged since he had lost saw her. But sure enough it was her. Walburga Black, dear mama.

"Of course. You had to make a damn portrait of yourself."

Walburga Black continued screaming insults at the top of her lungs, which was joined in by the more muffled, lower pitch insults of Kreacher. Sirius pointed his wand at the portrait and shot every spell he knew to try to remove the painting or silence it. With every spell aimed at the portrait, Kreacher's wails got louder.

_Home sweet home._

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><p>By the time Sirius finally got to see Harry a month later, the house and himself had both been transformed. Grimmauld Place was officially the headquarters of the Order with Dumbledore as its secret keeper. In addition, Sirius, with little help from Kreacher, had cleared the house of dust, mold and a Doxys infestation. As for himself, he no longer looked like a madman with a scruffy beard and sunken in face. He was clean-shaven and well fed. Plus he now had the luxury of living as an aristocrat of the Black family home with all of its remaining wealth. A wealth comparable to the Malfoys because their investments had been steadily accruing interest while they were no expenditures for a decade. <em>All the money in the world and nowhere to go. Oh the irony.<em>

Sometimes he just felt like a well-groomed housecat. Pampered and declawed.

At the very least, though, he was no longer alone. And no one was the wiser that he had ever fallen to such depths of depravity. Yes, from the outside, Sirius appeared to be his old self and to have regained a normal, if limited, life. He had a home, wealth, friends and family-if you counted Harry, Tonks, Andromeda, plus one annoying as fuck portrait. He could live comfortably and securely to the end of his days as long as he stayed in the house. And to the limited number of people in the Order of the Phoenix and some of their associates.

It was not a large circle of people but neither was it claustrophobically small. True, it was too small a crowd to ever have a one-night stand with a stranger. True, Molly Weasley could compete with Walburga Black for most annoying, loud-mouth matriarch. True, Dumbledore came and went like he owned the place, ordering everyone around like a giant prat without ever giving explanations. True, it included Severus Snape, someone he hated more than ever and who, kindly, returned the favour. True, sometimes it made him feel like he was in the Jean-Paul Sartre play 'No Exit'. Yet there was also Remus, Mad Eye, the Weasley boys, Buckbeak and, most importantly, Harry. He loved his godson as dearly as he loved James Potter. So he tried to not show his unhappiness for his sake. The boy had enough to worry about with Voldemort on his back.

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><p>Author's note: Please review!<p>

I think Sirius wondered for a second if he was going mad when he heard his mother's voice. Then he probably just panicked that she was a ghost before seeing the portrait. Although Sirius hated his mother and she hated him in the end, I think if he found her alive, he would've hugged for a minute before hexing her. Afterall, inside he is still a child that was unloved (sob) : (


	4. Christmas at Grimmauld Place

**CHAPTER 4: Christmas at Grimmauld Place**

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><p>"God rest ye, merry hippogriffs" - Sirius Black<p>

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><p>Sirius' first Christmas at Grimmauld Place after two decades was an occasion to remember. It was a bittersweet privilege that he could welcome the werewolf Remus, the muggleborn Hermione and the blood traitor Weasley clan to his ancestral home for the holidays. Sirius was in such a good mood lately that nothing that normally bothered him about Grimmauld Place could bring him down. The stuffed house-elf heads that normally made him feel disgusted were now cheerfully decorated with Santa Claus hats and beards. And instead of screaming back at his mother's portrait, he merely chuckled at her over-the-top supremacist hate speeches. It certainly made Remus laugh whenever he heard himself referred to as the "degenerate flea bag".<p>

Although the ministry attack on Arthur Weasley had been shocking and disturbing, Sirius could not help feeling secretly glad that because of it Harry and the entire Weasley clan were now staying at Grimmauld Place for the entire holidays. Somehow the idea of spending Christmas with just Buckbeak, and Remus, didn't compare to celebrating with the whole gang. In the days leading up to the 24th, Sirius could not help loudly singing carols as he went about decorating the house.

It was the first proper Christmas for either Sirius and Harry. Sirius remembered Christmas with his own family as a stately affair, an opportunity used to display wealth and status, without any real warmth to the celebrations. Regulus and he were expected to behave as perfect little purebloods, "examples of good breeding", in front of guests. And then for fourteen years, he had no Christmas at all while being a prisoner and then a fugitive.

Harry hadn't had much better luck with the Dursleys. That muggle family never wanted the wizard-born Harry and never made the least effort to pretend they wanted him. Their cold, shriveled up hearts could not bother to even pretend to care about Harry for a few hours on Christmas. For Harry to spend at least one Christmas with any type of a loving family member, even if Sirius was only a godfather, was a big deal to him. And Sirius did his best to make their Christmas at Grimmauld Place an unforgettable one. He even placed a stocking by the fireplace for Buckbeak and filled it with dead rats and snakes. Everyone was disgusted by it, especially Molly Weasley, but they didn't have the heart to take it down.

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><p><em><strong>Christmas Eve, 1995<strong>_

They sat around the dining table with silly, tinsel hats and overfull stomachs from a Christmas feast that could've knocked out an elephant. Even Ron, if that was possible, looked full. In the background, tiny flying Santa and reindeer ornaments whizzed through the air, while the whole house had been enchanted to fall with softly twirling snowflakes. Every time Sirius looked around the table, Nymphadora was making another funny face or otherwise changing her hair in some way. He had only just met the daughter of his cousin Andromeda Black, but the clumsy metamorphogus was beginning to grate on his nerves. Not only was she clumsy but she was impolite. And she always hogged Remus when Sirius wanted to have a one-on-one conversation with him. Apparently, Miss Tonks didn't understand the meaning of "butting in" or interrupting a private conversation. Though Sirius had an excellent prank in store for her.

"Sirius what's in these things?"

"They're called Christmas crackers, Tonks, you just open them."

"I know that, but what's in them?"

Sirius looked over at Remus.

"Did you tell her anything, Mooney?"

Remus smiled sheepishly but Tonks answered for him before he could speak. Just like an old wife already, Sirius thought.

"No, he didn't, Padfoot!" she said Sirius' code name with a sarcastic emphasis.

"Then why is she suspicious?" he asked, addressing Remus again and ignoring her.

"Because I wasn't born yesterday, Sirius!"

"That's debatable, what are you fourteen?"

Tonks sent a tap-dancing hex at Sirius, "No, I'm twenty-"

He deflected the hex with minimal effort. He had already amused everyone twice by letting Tonks hex him into dancing like Micheal Flatley in Riverdance.

"Could have fooled me."

He sent a balding hex at her, hitting her square on. Immediately, her multi-coloured tresses fell to the floor like confetti. For a moment, Tonks looked shocked at the heap of her hair on the floor. For the first time, Sirius saw the confident metamorphogus blush as she felt her bald head with her hands.

"If it helps, I think it makes you look older..."

Sirius did not have time to finish as a bald Tonks started charging towards him with her wand outstretched. The crazed auror was halted midflight, however, as Ron ignorantly opened one of Sirius' Christmas crackers. In an instance, fireworks as loud as cannons were shooting through the dining room. It was like trying to avoid colourful missiles at close range.

Over the loud noise, someone managed to shout, "Ron, you idiot! I told you not to open it!" He thought it sounded like Hermione. Hermione was usually reprimanding Ron for something stupid he had done. Which was pretty often.

While everyone else scrambled from the room, Sirius ducked underneath the dining table for shelter. It was a long, ancient table made from solid wood as thick as a slab of stone. If there was an earthquake, it would probably be the safest place to seek shelter. Hermione was there at the other end of the table. Apparently, she was the only one smart enough to immediately duck under the table rather than risk being hit by a rocket while fleeing.

Sirius observed her messy locks and disgruntled expression. She did not look happy. He tried to look as innocent as possible as they waited for the fireworks to subside. They both held their ears, hoping they wouldn't go deaf. When the fireworks finally ended after what seemed an eternity, Sirius gave her an apologetic half-smile. Hermione merely raised her eyebrows at him, looking more disapproving than ever. Of him and his pranks.

Sirius felt strangely infuriated.

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><p>After the fireworks, the rest of the evening passed by relatively quietly with most of the Order Members flooing back to their houses and Molly taking Arthur back to St. Mungo's. Which left just Sirius, Lupin and Tonks to deal with the gaggle of kids. Unfortunately, Lupin was the only one with an ounce of maturity so it was more like the former professor was babysitting all of them. Including Tonks who had seemed to have forgotten she was an auror who was supposed to protect Harry, not careen around Remus like a giggling schoolgirl.<p>

When Sirius started a broomstick drag race within the house, Remus decided he had enough for a night. He yanked Sirius aside and tried to talk sense to him.

"Sirius, can you stop drinking firewhiskey in front of the kids and act your age! What kind of example are you setting?" Remus whispered furiously.

"Take it easy, Mooney, it's Christmas." Sirius said ignoring Remus and looking back at the race as Harry closely followed by the twins and Ron zoomed by on their broomsticks."Look how happy Harry is to show off on a broomstick! He's just like James."

"Need I remind you these are Order headquarters, not a playhouse! What if Dumbledore comes back.."

"I don't give a damn what Dumblesnore thinks, this is still my house-"

"Fine. Have it your way but I'm leaving," Remus said, going towards the fireplace.

"Now, Mooney, don't be like that!" Sirius pleaded after him, genuinely upset that his only best friend was leaving him, "What about Tonks, you can't leave me with just her and all these kids. You know how clumsy she is, something bad could happen."

"Sorry Sirius."

Remus disappeared into the flames, leaving him standing by the fireplace.

"Sirius get out of the way!" Harry's voice bellowed from around the corner. Sirius barely ducked in time to get out of the race track as the boys passed by again on their broomsticks.

Damn it, that would've hurt quite abit if a broomstick had got him in the side.

"Sirius! Are you alright?" Tonks said as she hurried to his side and tried to pull him up by his arm.

"I will be, if you just let me get up on my own." Sirius said as he waved her off him. He didn't want the clumsy witch helping him, she'd probably pull off one of his arms by accident.

"Where's Remus?" Tonks said, spooling a candy-cane coloured lock around her finger.

_My wasn't she obvious. The girl was probably already planning her wedding to Remus._

"I don't know," Sirius lied, "I can't imagine why he would take off, without someone like you."

Sirius winked at her. He felt like slapping himself for being such a dog but he couldn't help it. He had drunk at least 3 firewhiskeys, which wasn't much but it was enough to rid him of self-respect. Nymphadora was the only viable female in his house, probably the only one that would ever walk in this house...unless Mad-Eye suddenly sprouted a pair of breasts.

"Did you just wink at me?" Tonks asked incredulously.

"What's it to you, wish it were Remus winking at you instead?"

_He really deserved a double slap right now. Too bad, Remus wasn't here to stop him. Grumpy old werewolf._

"No, I just assumed COUSIN Sirius" she practically screamed out the word cousin "that you hated me!"

Nonetheless, her fingers went back to play with her hair which now looked like melted caramel. He did in fact sort of hate her, mostly because she was clumsy and tactless. But could he truly hate the only shaggable chick that would ever walk in his house?

"We're second cousins, once removed," he said soberly.

"What does 'once removed' mean?" said Tonks intently, as if she were actually seriously considering his offer. "Are you referring to how you were removed from the family tree?"

"No, but we're practically strangers by pureblood standards, you know Lucius Malfoy married his first cousin, none removed."

"Eww." Tonks said but then she started giggling.

_But Remus would hate him for it. Damn cock-blocking bastard._

"You know what, can you just forget I said anything? I'm going crazy here," he said, lifting up the firewhiskey bottle from his jacket pocket.

"Yes!" Tonks said in relief, "I mean, its not you, but it would have made things incredibly awkward at Order meetings."

She didn't have to explain. The Order meetings were already awkward with Tonks constantly looking at Remus with Remus avoiding looking at her at all costs while Sirius tried to jinx him with jelly legs under the table. Plus, Sirius was nearly certain now that McGonagall looked over at him once too many times than was necessary.

Sirius and Tonks went back to the living room where the kids had joined together.

"Oi! What are all these presents?" Tonks said hopefully.

"Last minute presents, courtesy of us" Fred and George said with a flourish, "We felt bad we didn't get anything for anybody, especially after you lot all gave us a good pile."

"Well I didn't actually get you boys anything," Tonks said. "Course I feel bad about it now!"

"Don't worry, Nymphadora, we got you something anyways!"

"Thanks, but DON'T call me Nymphadora."

The twins handed over a small package to Tonks and a large package to Sirius. Sirius noticed that Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione also had beautifully wrapped packages in their hands. Which they were looking at suspiciously after reading the attached cards. Hermione especially was frowning as she read her card and then whispered something to Ron. Ron nodded glumly and then said something to Harry.

Sirius read his card which was attached to a package suspiciously like the size and shape of a life-sized doll: _"Dear Sirius, We know a handsome guy like you must be frustrated that you can't go out. So here's something to help you enjoy your time in. P.S. Everyone knows you have the hots for our mom but don't try anything or we'll kill you. Merry Christmas, George and Fred."_

Sirius didn't know whether to laugh or feel insulted. He just knew there was no way he was opening this package...at least not in front of the kids.

"Thanks George, that was a nice card you wrote me. It was quite thoughtful." Ginny said.

"Thoughtful?!" Ron said in disgust, "My card says, 'Hey little Ron, you can be a right turd sometimes, Merry Christmas, George and Fred. P.S. Don't open this package inside or it might explode."

Several people, including Harry and Sirius, stifled a laugh.

"Did you hear that George? We got him a present and he's complaining!"

"I don't remember him getting us presents."

"Like hell I'm going to believe this actually contains a broomstick," Ron protested, though the longing look on his face betrayed that he was still contemplating opening the package which looked temptingly like the shape of a broomstick.

"I believe the correct words are 'thank you' when someone gives you a present Ron," Fred lectured.

"Oh shove it!" Ron growled.

"Ungrateful git."

"Don't expect anything next year."

"My card is addressed from Frorge and Gred..." said Tonks, toying dangerously with the bow "but I agree with Ginny, the card was thoughtful."

Sirius rolled his eyes. He could only imagine what the twins must've wrote.

"...No, it is!" Tonks persisted "They wrote that they appreciate the role I played in helping save their father's life."

"I appreciate it too," said Ginny emotionally. "We won't ever forget it, Tonks...You're like family now."

Tonks' eyes were beginning to water as were Ginny's.

"Yak, yak, yak, will you girls open your presents already?"

"Yeah, we don't want you crying all over your nice new gifts," Fred quipped, before winking at his twin. "Save the waterworks for New Years."

Tonks and Ginny were about the open their presents when Hermione yelled at them to stop as if they were about to open a bomb.

"Hey what's your deal?" said George and Fred in mock offended tones. "You have a gift too."

"These are obviously NOT gifts, they're pranks," Hermione said, referring to her package which looked innocently like a wrapped up book.

"Ouch! Where's your yultide spirit?" George said.

"Yeah? Me and George spent time picking out presents for you ungrateful lot."

"The card you wrote me was shamefully insulting and I plan on throwing it out unopened."

"That's a shame, you could really use what's in there." said Fred innocently.

"I DO NOT NEED WHAT YOU SAID I NEED IN THAT CARD!" Hermione screamed before throwing the package in the fire and running from the room.

"What's her deal?" said Fred

"Yeah? Ginny and Tonks said are cards were thoughtful." said George.

"What exactly did you say in the card?" asked Harry concerned.

Harry's question was never answered as Tonk's opened her present. For a split second, they all breathed a sigh of relief because it appeared to be a musical box. Until she winded it up and it exploded in a loud bang of red and green slime that began to sing Christmas carols in elvish. The slime was sticky and hard to get rid of but everyone couldn't help laughing. Everyone except Hermione who had long left.

Sirius found himself annoyed once more by the Gryffindor bookworm. Hermione had good sense but did she have to be so uptight and condescending? Of course, a present from Fred and George was bound to be a joke or jinxed but would it kill anyone? No. Would it make them laugh? Yes. Would it make for a memorable Christmas? Again, yes. But some people couldn't take a joke could they.

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	5. Boxing Day

**Chapter 5: Boxing Day...What a Pile of Humbug!**

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><p>During the last few days of their Christmas vacation, Hermione began to spend more and more time in the Black family library. While Harry and Ron were intent on making the most of their remaining holidays (and freedom), Hermione seemed completely focused on getting ready for the new school year. She was the only one, besides Sirius for obvious reasons, who stayed behind on Boxing Day. So she could read. If she wasn't such an insufferable know-it-all, Sirius might have been impressed to meet a girl who chose reading over shopping. Even the boys decided to get a bit spend-crazy on Quidditch equipment they had been eyeing for awhile at Quality Quidditch Supplies. Sirius himself caved in to the pressure and eventually gave his coin purse to Harry with instructions to pick him up some chocolates and other goodies. Even though Boxing Day began unceremoniously for Sirius and stayed that way for the rest of the cursed day (making him feel like Scrooge and ending in a giant pile of bah-humbug).<p>

Sirius had been in the midst of a nice, deep sleep after a hectic Christmas when they were all awaken at 6am. By Molly Weasley. Shouting loudly and knocking on all their doors.

"Merlin's sake, what are you doing here Molly?" Sirius said groggily after he had been awoken by her loud knocking on his bedroom door.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, Sirius. I didn't know which door was which so I had to knock on all of them! Where are Harry and Ron's rooms?"

Sirius pointed sleepily to their doors at the other end of the hall.

As Molly began to pound on the doors before stepping in and turning the lights on the poor boys, Sirius followed behind her, a bit alarmed and confused by her actions.

"What on earth is going on?!"

"It's Boxing Day Sirius." she said matter-of-factly "My family has already eaten breakfast and is all ready to go but I have to collect these two stragglers before they get left behind."

"Left behind from what?!" Sirius practically shouted, fully frustrated and more than a little pissed off that he had been awaken at 6am from a good, drunken sleep.

"From all the savings and specials, of course. It's a once in a year opportunity to save."

Sirius thought she sounded exactly like a catalogue and slapped his forehead. Had the world become upside down?!

He looked mournfully at Harry and Ron as they dutifully stumbled about, only half-awake. One was trying to brush his teeth and get dressed while the other one was trying to stuff as many breakfast sausages in his mouth as possible.

_What would become of this generation?!_

"Shut up, Sirius." Molly said.

"Did I say that outloud?"

"Yes! And it's not as if our generation did any better! I can remember a particularly bad Order of the Pheonix Christmas party, in case you don't!"

Sirius paled. He hoped to god she was not referring to THAT Christmas party. The one where he had gotten so drunk he actually tried to hit on Molly, despite how she was already dating Arthur Weasley at the time. Though truth be told, he was so drunk he might've hit on Dumbledore ('Oh Albus, did anyone tell you how fetching your beard is? It's soooo long.')

"Exactly," Molly smirked.

"That was NOT what you think you thought it was."

"Oh? Well maybe what you're thinking I thought it was has nothing to do with what I'm actually thinking."

Dammit, it was too early in the morning to actually follow any of this.

Sirius changed the topic before it got anymore dangerous, "You know what, I think I like this Boxing Day thing. Very Christmassy, the materialism is heartwarming...I'm going to get my purse!"

He ran from the room.

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: in the wizarding world, there are no "man bags" or wallets, everyone has a purse/coin purse. So there is nothing effeminate about Sirius having a purse, though it really is just a pouch, nothing fancy and definitely not Louis Vuitton.)_

He returned just as Molly, Harry and Ron were pinching Floo-Powder to get to Diagon Alley. He tossed his purse to Harry with instructions on what to get him.

"Harry, be careful," Sirius said, "It may be the holidays to us but Voldemort doesn't take any holidays does he?"

Harry nodded solemnly but still looked like he was half asleep.

"Hey, where's Hermione? Did she already floo ahead?" Ron asked, just noticing that only one of his two best friends was beside him.

"No. She doesn't want to come. She says she'd rather read! Honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do with that girl." Molly said disparagingly.

After the boys flooed, Molly was the last to leave. It seemed she purposefully wanted to single him out to make a disparaging comment.

"Sirius do something about your hangover, you look a wreck."

"Thanks, Molly. Have a safe trip." he said as if she had not just insulted him.

Damn her. Bloody right he was an exhausted wreck with a hangover. No small thanks to being waken at 6am when he had only gone to bed at 3am. Sirius headed straight back to bed and slept until 12.

* * *

><p>When he awoke from his slumber, Sirius was absolutely starved and went straight to the fridge with his mouth salivating. He was looking forward to the maple-syrup roasted sausages he had prepared the other night.<p>

There was not one sausage left. WTF?!

A slur of expletives, that would make a sailor blush, left Sirius' mouth as if by their own accord. So he was shocked when he heard Hermione's voice behind him.

"Good morning Sirius."

He thought the house was completely empty. But there was Hermione sitting at the kitchen table, looking very prim in a school sweater with a book beside her cup of tea. Looking at him as if he were a beast. It did help that he had gotten out of bed with just his pants on.

"Fuck."

Hermione raised her eyebrows as if waiting for more expletives to leave his mouth but none came.

"I mean, good morning," he paused awkwardly "Didn't realize you were there, forgive me..."

Sirius felt like a troll without any manners. But then he remembered how stuck up Hermione had been last night and his embarassment turned to anger. What right did she have to act like a second Molly Weasley or Walburga Black in his house? There were already enough bossy naysayers in this house.

"Actually, I'm not sorry!"

Hermione looked shocked. Sirius didn't even know what he meant exactly except to be belligerent and now he immediately regretted it.

"I mean I am sorry but I have such a-a-headache" (hangover) "that I'm not sorry."

Okay, he wished now he hadn't said anything. Because not only did he not make sense but he also sounded like a complete asshole.

"Sirius, are you alright?" There was genuine concern in her voice. Which only made him feel worse.

"Yes...I'm just tired, very tired. I'm sorry Hermione, I shouldn't have got out of bed today."

He said "tired" because he didn't want to admit that after everyone else had gone to sleep, he had stayed up drinking firewhiskey, reminiscing of old friends and bygone days. Memory lane sentimental stuff. Very Christmassy.

"...I truly am sorry, that you've seen me like this..." he blathered on.

Hermione was perplexed but soon guessed the source of his afflictions.

"It's alright Sirius, I think I know what is troubling you," she said a bit too motherly.

She went to fetch a batch of All-Sorrows-Begone syrup, a commonly known remedy for hangovers as well as headaches and angry babies. Sirius scrutinized the bottle, which had a label of an angry-looking baby on it. He knew exactly how that baby on the bottle felt.

"Thank you, Hermione. You are considerate."

He let her feed him three spoonfuls and thanked her again. He knew she knew. She also knew he knew that she knew he was hungover but both were content to not mention it. There was no fooling Hermione Granger. Afterall, in her third year, she had easily sussed out that Remus was a werewolf. She could easily spot a hangover, even though she had never been drunk in her life. Sirius climbed up the stairs, wondering why he had felt so angry at Hermione but then had been unable to be express the slightest incivility. Instead he let her spoon-feed him like a big walloping baby as he apologized repeatedly. What an idiot, he was.

* * *

><p>When Harry and Ron returned from Diagon Alley's Boxing Day bash, Grimmauld Place once again hummed with life and the sounds of inhabitation. Harry and Ron were opening packages of their new quidditch equipment and generally making a ruckus. To their delight, Harry had brought back Sirius a chocolate frog the size of a horse.<p>

At first, Sirius was hesistant to open the gigantic package but Harry and Ron eagerly cajoled him to do it. They had their wands out ready to catch the frog if it decided to go on a rampage through the house. Sure enough, as soon as it was released, the giant chocolate frog hopped frantically away as if its life depended on it... which it did. (Though chocolate frogs aren't actual living frogs, as that would be cruel.)

The frog knocked down some precious porcelain and left brown skid marks as it hopped throughout Grimmauld Place searching for a pond or exit. Unfortunately, Ron reduced the frog to a giant turd of melted chocolate when he absentmindedly used finite incantem (rather than immobulus). Finite incantem, of course, ended all the spells on the frog, including the spell that made it a frog. What was leftover was the shapeless chocolate.

"Oh yuck, that doesn't look appetizing does it?"

"Looks like a troll took a dump."

"I'll get Kreacher to clean that up...By hand, no magic."

Sirius was a little let down by what had happened to his chocolate frog but it cheered him that Kreacher now had to clean up what appeared to be a giant turd. As Ron and Harry went back to the living room, Sirius had a smirk on his face as he transfigured the chocolate turd so that it smelt like an actual turd. Then he called Kreacher. Usually he dreaded any second of time he had to spend with Kreacher but for once he didn't mind giving the house-elf a command.

Kreacher strolled in at a slow pace, barely noticing the giant pile in the hall, as he muttered the usual insults under his breath.

"Kreacher, clean this up. No magic. It's cursed and very dangerous."

He transfigured a tiny plastic shovel and bucket, like the kind that muggle parents gave to their kids to play with sand on the beach.

"Use only this."

Sirius left the hallway with a smile on his face. He just hoped Hermione did not walk through there in the next hour. No doubt she would spoil the fun as always and accuse him of cruelty while flashing her SPEW badge. Perhaps he had better make sure she wasn't coming downstairs. After his embarrassing behaviour this morning, he did not want a repeat.

With renewed energy, he sped up the staircase to the third floor.

He knew exactly where he could find her. Sure enough, Hermione was in the library snuggled against the windowseat that looked down on the frozen garden below. The windowseat in the library had also been his favourite spot when he was a boy. No one would have guessed by his behaviour at Hogwarts, where he had been too busy with pranks and general mischief to ever visit the library, but reading had always been his favourite pasttime. It was one of few escapes he had while he still living with his parents. Hermione was so deeply absorbed by her book that it was unlikely she would move for hours but to be sure... Sirius placed anti-disturbance, muffliato and anti-olfactory spells on the library. Luckily, with her nose stuck in a book, Hermione did not appear to notice anything.

"Sirius! Come down here!" Harry and Ron's voices called out.

Sirius went racing back downstairs. As he passed by the mainfloor hallway, he was surprised how far Kreacher had progressed with just the tiny shovel and bucket. "You're quite industrious!" he couldn't help complimenting the elf. Kreacher mumbled something angrily under his breath. Sirius could only pick up the words 'Master Black' and 'turd'...or maybe it was bast-turd. But nevermind, he was not going to compliment the elf on his pun skills as well.

In the living room, Harry and Ron had their faces scrunched in disgust.

"What the hell did you do that chocolate?!" Ron whined.

"You're one to talk! You turned my frog into a turd!"

"Yeah, but now it smells like a turd!"

"Please don't tell me he tried to eat it." Sirius said looking at Harry and then back at Ron for smudge marks.

"Oi, I didn't! I don't even eat the Berty beans that taste funny."

Harry pleaded rationally, "Sirius, whatever you did, undo it. The whole house smells, we could suffocate."

"Don't worry about it, I have Kreacher cleaning it up. Just don't drink any hot chocolate he tries to offer you after."

Harry, Ron and Sirius were in the midst of laughing at his joke when they were disturbed by Hermione's voice.

"What on earth is going on here?!" Her voice was absolutely furious.

_Fuck._

* * *

><p>Hermione looked rather funny holding a tiny stained shovel in one hand and pinching her nose with the other hand...however there was no mistaking the anger in her eyes. She threw the dirty shovel at their feet then dramatically pointed with her arm at the hallway.<p>

"WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THAT?"

Harry and Ron meekly pointed at Sirius. Sirius pointed at Ron but it was too late. Two against one.

"Traitors," Sirius muttered under his breath.

After Hermione got out the whole story of the chocolate frog, Sirius expected her to hex him or at least lecture him on the fair treatment of elves again. But her response was much, much worse: nothing. She simply ignored him for the next few days before they had to leave for Hogwarts. She was not directly rude, she still greeted him and answered his questions, with a short statement or curt yes/no, but she was about as warm as an iceberg.

This hurt Sirius more than any hex or insult could. When she looked at him now, it was as if she were looking at Lucius Malfoy or some other brute elf-abuser. Which was completely unfair. Sirius had never been cruel to any elf. The turd thing had been a prank and a well-deserved one. If anything his elf abused him, not the other way around! But she couldn't take a joke could she? What on earth was her problem?

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I still laugh whenever I read this! Yeah for giant piles of turd smelling chocolate! Siriusly though, Hermione needs to see that elves can abuse humans! Kreacher is a case in point of elves abusing humans! Poor Sirius. But don't worry Siri, Scrooge would be turning in his grave about Boxing Day as well.


	6. Snowfall

**Chapter 6: Snowfall**

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><p>The last night before the trio were to leave Grimmauld Place, Sirius could not sleep. His mind and body were restless, even his heart was racing. If he were in his dog form, he would tear the room apart, chewing everything or else barking till he had no strength left. He knew it was because he would be left alone again. An empty house was not something he was looking forward to after getting used to company over the Christmas holiday. Sirius laughed grimly at his own anxiety: he was truly like a dog, getting separation anxiety, ready to bark and whine to not be separated from the ones he loved.<p>

He tried to reason his anxiety away. Their departure shouldn't affect him so badly. It was not as if they were going away forever. And now that he was at Grimmauld Place, Harry could visit whenever he had the time.

But that was not all. Something else clawed at his core though he could not understand why. A sense within him that nothing would be right once they left. That he had missed something irreparably.

But what?

After tossing and turning, Sirius finally gave up all hope of escaping into unconsciousness. He got up and searched the medicine cupboard for a dreamless sleeping draught. But the cabinet was filled with only empty bottles, not all of them from medicine. He made a mental note to order another large quantity of bottles, one for every night.

Sleeping draught was one of the precious luxuries he had gotten used to since returning to Grimmauld Place. Since his worst nightmares came at night, dreamless sleep helped restore much of his sanity. Though this night he would have no sleep and no such chance of peace.

Absentmindedly he dressed himself and wandered downstairs to the living room. He sat himself in an armchair and set the fireplace ablaze with a roaring fire. He was not really cold but looking at fire relaxed him. Something about the way the flames danced, constantly changing, allowed him to forget his own thoughts. As he sat in the chair looking at the flames, he found his eyes unconsciously wandering to the liquor cabinet.

There were still a few bottles of fire whiskey left that he and Remus had not drained between themselves. His eyes switched back and forth between the roaring fire and the cabinet. _Why did he have to feel bad about wanting to get drunk? Did it make him a monster that he needed to forget and sleep?_

He was about to make his way to the liquor cabinet when a thought struck him.

_Hermione would not approve._

_Oh damn that girl. Why did it matter if she didn't approve? __She did not approve of anything, not of pranks, or risks, or him. _

_What did her opinion matter?_

_If he listened to her, the silly girl would probably tell him to read a book instead of drink..._

_...Not that that's such a bad idea._

Oddly, Sirius found himself agreeing with the advice given to him by the imaginary Hermione in his head. He had not read a book for years, not since before he went to prison and was still a young man. A lifetime ago. He suddenly felt charged with the desire to reread some of his favourite novels from childhood. Sirius quietly, but as quickly as possible, raced up the stairs to the library. He felt like a child again as he raced up the familiar steps to the third floor. He halted midflight, however, as he stepped into the library and saw Hermione there.

He quietly looked at her from across the room. She was curled up asleep on the windowseat, with a book still in her small hands. She had delicate hands like a child. But it was her face that struck some chord within him. Her sleeping face. When she was not worried or angry, as she usually was during the day, she looked so peaceful. So absurdly peaceful if that were possible in a world where Voldemort had returned. Like freshly fallen snow, unblemished. He could not wake or disturb her in any way. Somehow that would be as wrong as walking on freshly fallen snow untraced by any footprints.

So he stood outside the entrance for a moment, merely looking at her. Wondering what happened because it only felt like a while ago that he was exactly like her. Of the same strand of idealistic youth as he sat by the same windowseat with a book in his hand. His young mind full of fantastic ideas of how his life would pan out.

As he was about to leave, she opened her eyes and looked directly at him. Somehow she had sensed his presence from deep in her sleep and awoken just in time for her large brown eyes to meet his silvery grey ones. They were both caught off guard for a moment.

Sirius' brain started ungainly back into motion, searching for the right thing to say. Why was he standing there looking at her?

"Sirius?" she said, creasing her brow as she got up from the window seat.

She was wondering why he was in his pyjamas before she looked down at her muggle watch and swore under her breath. Her hair looked like more of a bird's nest than ever as she ran a hand roughly through it.

She turned pleadingly to Sirius, "Please don't tell me I was asleep!?"

"Don't worry Hermione, you weren't snoring or anything," he said casually.

She brought a palm to her face "No! Now I'll never be ready by tomorrow! Dear Merlin, I just know there's going to be a pop quiz on the assigned readings for transfiguration or potions..."

She rifled through her school notes, accidentally tipping over a pile of books that had just been waiting to fall over. As she hurried to pick everything up, she stole a glance at Sirius, "I'm sorry, I should know better than to cram at the last minute."

"Oh give me a break, all you do is study!"

"But I haven't studied at all really!" She said with panic as she looked over the book that had been lying next to her. "I feel fairly certain that I did not get much further than the introductory chapter before I must have drifted off."

She groaned quietly as she flipped through the pages and indeed could not recall reading any of it.

"McGonagall is going to slaughter us!"

"I highly doubt that. You probably know more than her."

Because she still looked so downcast and disappointed in herself, he added with a smile, "Incidentally, if you wanted to stay awake longer, you should have drank Redbull. It's how I got by cramming in my day."

"By drinking Redbull?!"

Her voice was laced with incredulity. Sirius didn't understand why. It's not as if he said he got by his exams cheating or using illegal study potions.

"Yeah, Redbull...Is there something wrong with that?"

"No!" she said quickly before frowning "I just didn't know you drank that stuff."

"Well, I do...as well as a lot of other muggle beverages I don't care to name." He waggled his eyebrows roguishly.

She looked at him perplexed, almost tempted to laugh. Her young face searched his for any sign or trace that he was just pulling her leg.

"Sorry, but it's just odd you should say that because Redbull is, well, a muggle thing. Most wizards don't know what coffee even is, let alone Redbull. I hadn't thought, given your background, that...well... never mind."

Secretly he is offended. Does she think he is as out of touch as Lucius Malfoy?

"Hey, I say if it works it works! Not everything has to be done with a potion or spell, though there are plenty of wake-me-up potions with side effects."

"Caffeine has side-effects too, Sirius."

Now it is his turn to be surprised, "Are you serious? I never noticed any."

"Oh, yes! I mean nothing severe. From what I've read, I think it just makes you go to the bathroom more often and is slightly addictive, with the possibility of heart failure if you overdo it."

"That could explain a few things..." he decided to impress her further with his muggle knowledge "Tell me, what's the LD50 for caffeine?"

In spite of fatigue, Hermione's face suddenly broke into the biggest smile Sirius had ever seen on her. Bingo, he thought. There was never a need for a prank to make her smile. Just show her that I am not an ignoramus.

"I can't believe you know what an LD50 is! Not even Muggles know that!"

Sirius grinned. No one could say he was not full of surprises.

"How would you...Why do you know what that is?!"

"That's a long story...but let's just say there was a bit of harmless drugs involved and I needed to know for safety reasons" he said smugly.

"A prank was it?"

For once Hermione looked genuinely interested in hearing about one of his infamous pranks, so Sirius relegated the story with great animation. He left out only a few minor details. Knowing how much she loved magical creatures, he changed the victim of his prank from a Hippogryff to a Hufflepuff. Somehow she didn't seem to be offended when it was a fellow student, not a Hippogryff, that was given a handful of the potentially harmful drugs. She seemed almost impressed by the expertise he used in his prank. Of how he read up on the LD50 to calculate the dosage of the party drug to give to the unwary Hufflepuff.

Hermione continued to smile at him and they spoke for a little while longer. For Sirius, it felt like the morning had arrived because her beaming face made him feel fully awake. Yet as an hour passed chatting, he could't help but notice her bright eyes were getting tired and at fifteen, she needed her sleep. So he excused himself by saying he was tired and had to go back to bed. As they left the library, he noticed one of the books she carried, just one, was not a textbook. It was a novel. A very interesting novel. He smiled but said nothing. Clearly, it was one of her secrets. Perhaps she had stayed up reading that instead of her textbook.

Alone in his room again, he thinks how ironic it is that he missed something so obvious. That the way to make Hermione Granger truly laugh was not a prank but merely to surprise her intellectually. He fell quickly into an calm, deep sleep.

* * *

><p>In the morning Sirius accompanied them to the train station as Snuffles the dog. He found himself oddly relaxed about their departure. Though he would miss Harry, he no longer had the sense that everything was going in the wrong direction.<p>

Returning to the empty house, he went to the library and looked out the window. Snow was falling gently on the garden, it reminded him of her peaceful face.

.

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* * *

><p>Author's note:<p>

So if you've been following this story you know I have rewritten certain chapters like ten times. It's getting really frustrating but I think I'm finally done rewriting stuff and will just move on to posting new chapters. Lots of love to my reviewers and followers.

*Brownie points to any readers who studied science and knew what a LD50 was!*


	7. The Black Family Roses

**Chapter 7: The Black Family Roses**

"If love were what the rose is and I were like the leaf, Our love would grow together in sad or sighing weather." -Swinburne

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><p><strong><em>January 1996<em>**

The news of the mass breakout at Askaban struck just as things seemed to have reached a level of stasis in the new year. The Order had reported no signs of activity among the Death Eaters for several weeks. In conconcurence, the activities of the Order trickled to a standstill with shorter and less frequent meetings. Sirius had spent a miserable New Years with only Buckbeak as company and then gone to sleep thinking he should have gone out even if it he died. Risk, he kept repeating in his head, is what made life exciting and worth dieing for in the first place. Meanwhile staying safe was slowly killing him from the inside, mentally and physically. Sirius could not even contact his godson now because of the totalitarian watch Doloris Umbridge kept over Hogwarts. Hermione and then Harry had told him in his last fireplace visit that the risk was simply too great. Bitterly, he had told Harry that he was disappointed that he was not willing to take more risks like his father.

They could never understand the way being in this house drained away his will to live, siphoning his strength as if it drank his very blood. Of how they were condemning him to be a living ghost in his own house, unconnected once more from the outside world and anything that mattered.

There was no reason for him to even awake in the morning. He would already have drunk himself into oblivion if it were not for Buckbeak squawking at him to be fed. The poor beast didn't want to give up on Sirius, even though he could easily fly away, the hippogryff cried whenever Sirius was in a bad mood or didn't give him attention.

"I don't know why you stay with me, Buck," he said, stroking the coarse feathers on the hyppogryff's neck. "I can't give you much can I?"

Buckbeak squawked as if he disagreed, rubbing himself harder against Sirius's hands.

"Time for you to fly away," Sirius said as he opened the balcony doors so that Buckbeak could fly out. Each time he let Buckbeak out now he silently hoped the hippogryff did not return. Lately he wanted something to break him, to push him over the edge.

As Buckbeak flew into a cloudless sky, a snowy owl hurried in through the balcony door and flew past him. The shivering bird dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet on the floor and then flew straight out again without stopping. Sirius merely glanced at the paper before turning his back. He was not in any hurry to read whatever new misinformation and defaming articles the Daily Prophet came up with about Harry, Dumbledore or himself. He looked at the frozen garden below which now looked like it was made of glass because ice covered its entire surface and every detail.

Though Grimmauld Place was a large, once splendid house, the garden had always been of a pitiful size that matched the Black family's heart. The garden was little more than a square inset between ancient stone walls on every side. The only redeeming features were the greenman statue in the centre and the rose vines that grew up the stone walls. In the summer, cherry-red roses exuded a powerful, intoxicating perfume. Growing up, Sirius had always assumed that all roses were as beautiful and aromatically poignant as the one's in his garden. But the roses were actually a heirloom variety of the Black family that grew here and nowhere else. They were a cultivar created by his great great aunt Cassiopeia, a herbologist whose obsession with exotic and rare flowers eventually cost her her life.

Returning indoors, Sirius finally picked up the paper from the floor. On the front page, the headline read: MASS BREAKOUT FROM ASKABAN, BLACK IMPLICATED IN ORGANIZING THE ESCAPE and below it were the pictures of Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin and a dozen other faces he wished to never see again. There was no mention anywhere of Voldemort or Voldemort's involvement. The paper crumpled in his hand.

* * *

><p>The hiatus on Order meetings was broken as they once again reconvened at Grimmauld Place. Not an hour passed before the Order of the Phoenix members popped in one after the hour to discuss the calamity. Remus was the first to arrive and looked disheveled like he had just gotten up when he read the disturbing news.<p>

"How're you holding up?" Remus said as he sat with Sirius at the oak dining table.

"Better than you, if I were to go by appearances." Sirius said carefully, looking at the fresh scratch marks on his friend's face and hands.

"Full moon. Don't ask...Then I woke up to this bullshit," Remus said, waving a hand at the papers on the table.

"I know. Somehow I didn't think Voldemort would get away with a prison breakout."

"So you thought you were the only one who could break in or out of Askaban, did you?" Remus said with a grin though his face was tired from a heavy heart.

"Didn't you know? I am the one who helped them, the Daily Prophet says only I could've possibly managed it a second time."

"I hate how they've pinned everything on you..."

"No, it's great. It means I'm still on the world record book. If I'm honest, I find it rather flattering Voldemort didn't take credit for it."

"I'm sure he was too humble, Padfoot," Remus joked.

Sirius laughed but it echoed hollowly through the house. In truth, he had a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach ever since he read the news. The escapees that Voldemort had liberated were among the worst of the worst Death Eaters. Each of them had been convicted of crimes too horrible for description. Among them, Antonin Dolohov was a name Sirius could not bare to think of without his blood curdling. Antonin's words describing Dorcas' last few hours alive had echoed in his head for fourteen years, taunting him in his dreams and in his waking hours.

Dumbledore better as hell say he was going to recapture the escapees before they could do any more harm in the world.

* * *

><p>Sirius stormed out of the meeting before it was over. Dumbledore had fuck all to say. Except that they were waiting for Snape to come back and tell them what happened on the inside. Bloody Snape, as if they could trust a word he said. If Snape were any good whatsover, he would already have found a way to lure Voldemort away from his defenses so that the Order could make an attack. More likely, Snape was supplying Voldemort with useful information so that he could make another attack on them. Or Harry. And he couldn't even talk to Harry to warn him.<p>

Sirius banged open the backdoors that led to the garden, inhaling the cold air. He walked along the perimeter of the wall, breathing heavily, his breath jettisoned in wisps of white fume. Before he knew what he was doing, he tangled his hands into the frozen vines that grew in suffocating knots along the garden wall. He drew his hands back only as they were bleeding heavily from the thorns.

The hideous secret of the roses was that they were poisonous to everyone except those with pureblood. In the days before Grimmauld Place become entirely hidden from the outside world, the enticingly beautiful flowers had once lured muggles and muggleborns to pick one of the lethal roses. His own ancestors laughing at their misfortune as they watched from above.

As he leaned against the wall, Antonin's taunting words echoed in his head. But the image of Dorcas' dead face was replaced with Hermione's.

The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach deepened.

.

.

.

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><p>Author's note: Please review! It means alot!<p>

So this was a dark little chapter but that's how my fic is: dark and light, especially after all the happy stuff in the Christmas chapters. You may not agree with the way I'm writing Sirius but I do the best I can and honestly, in my own life it is when I am laughing the most on the inside that I am feeling the darkest and emptiest on the inside.


	8. Phineas Black's Offer

**Chapter 8: Phineas Black's Offer**

* * *

><p>"Never was anything great achieved without danger." -Niccolo Machiavelli<p>

* * *

><p>"Kreacher! Kreacher where are you?! Come here at once!"<p>

Lately, Sirius could never find the house elf, even when he called for him. Kreacher had taken to ignoring his commands instead of appearing at once and subserviently bowing as he was supposed to. It should have been a relief to not have Kreacher's odious presence around but Sirius had a terrible feeling that Kreacher was up to something.

Sirius frantically shifted through the attic, overturning boxes and looking underneath furniture. How difficult could it be to find one houseelf? Grimmauld Place was large enough to get lost in but it was not infinite.

Unless Kreacher had left the house. That is the thought that panicked him. That elf not only hated him but he knew everything about the Order and its members.

Suddenly, he heard Remus' voice calling from below.

"What?!" Sirius shouted back impatiently. "I thought you already left."

Remus had arrived at Grimmauld Place earlier that day telling Sirius he was worried about him and that they should have a chat. Normally, Sirius enjoyed whenever Remus visited him but today he had no patience. He did not need Remus' irritating sympathy. The only thing he needed was to find that house elf, dammit.

Kreacher was obviously up to something and he needed to find out what.

Sirius turned around as Remus hurried through the attic towards him.

"It's Harry! Downstairs. Now," Remus huffed through intakes of breath from running up three flights of stairs.

"What?" He couldn't believe Harry was risking it to contact him.

"He's in the fireplace. He doesn't have much time," Remus said with critical emphasis. But Sirius was already running down to the mainfloor fireplace.

Sirius' heart was racing, partly with anticipation simply to see Harry's face and partly with dread that he might bring bad news. If he was risking Umbridge, Harry must have something incredibly important to say, perhaps even of Voldemort.

Sirius beheld his godson's face in the fire before dropping to his knees, "What is it? Are you alright?"

Harry said nothing and his expression was odd, as if riddled with uncertainty rather than alarm.

"Do you need help?" Sirius said, catching his breath.

"No," said Harry hesitantly, "everything's alright...I just wanted to talk...about my dad."

Sirius felt confused. He loved talking about James but why would Harry risk their lives to talk about him now?

Harry began to explain what he saw in Snape's pensieve and the potion proffessor's memories of being mercilessly bullied when he was a student at Hogwarts. But Sirius was no longer listening because he had been there and already knew the story. What he did not understand was why, when there were so many more important and urgent things, Harry wanted to bring up a mere memory. And of Snape's.

Automatically, he found himself defending James and himself as Harry plied him with accusatory questions.

"...he just attacked Snape for no reason because you said you were _bored_," said Harry with disgust.

"I'm not proud of it," Sirius said quickly.

What did Harry expect him to say? That his father was a saint? Sirius was not going to lie. Of course, they had been arrogant little berks. He thought Harry knew that about them; the Mauradauder map didn't say "I solemnly swear I am up to pure good", did it? And didn't Harry's friends pick fights with Malfoy's gang? Gryffindor had always fought against Slytherin, both on and off the Quidditch field.

"Look," Sirius said "Your father was the best friend I ever had and despite what you saw, he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of 15. He grew out of it."

"Yeah, okay. I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."

"But you're still taking the occlumency lessons, aren't you?" Lupin said.

"No, Snape was so angry he said he'd never teach me occlumency again-"

"He WHAT?" Sirius shouted, not believing his ears. Here Harry was feeling sorry for Snape for something that happened eons ago meanwhile Snape was patently neglecting Dumbledore's orders and Harry's safety. "I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!"

Lupin pushed him down to calm him but their conversation with Harry only lasted a few seconds longer before the young boy had to duck out of the fireplace to escape Umbridge.

"This is just what I expected of Snape. He doesn't do what what Dumbledore told him, does he?!"

"It's alright, I will talk to Snape about it. Listen Padfoot, I suggest you don't talk to Snape. You know you've never gotten along, as Harry reminded us today."

"Oh, right, I should keep out of it then? Is that what you're saying? That I shouldn't be involved in my GODSON's life?"

"I'm not saying that. I just think it wouldn't help the situation if you interfered."

"Don't worry Mooney, I'm already kept out of everything. Locked up and now shut up...I'll go back to being a silent prescence in the attic if that should please you," Sirius said spitefully.

"Stop wallowing in self pity. We all have problems..."

Sirius left Remus before he lost his temper. Remus may have been a werewolf most of his life, a burden that carried a heavy social stigma. But Remus never had to spend twelve years in Askaban. And he never would. So he could not understand.

* * *

><p>Sirius continued his search for Kreacher without making any real progress. He was now shaking with anger as he tore through each room of the house, turning Grimmmauld Place upside down with no stone left unturned and no vase left unsmashed. When he did find Kreacher, the house-elf might not live long enough to explain where he had been.<p>

"Tearing the house apart?" said a sly, condescending voice "I can't say I'm surprised, you've always seemed intent on destroying whatever tatters remain of our once great family."

Sirius looked at the blank canvas of what had previously been the portrait of Phineas Black, his great great grandfather and the last Slytherin headmaster of Hogwarts.

"I thought I got rid of you," Sirius said tiredly.

"Only my visage, Sirius. My mind is still fully here, as are my ears."

Sirius paused from turning the room inside out to lay down on the bed. He was utterly exhausted.

"Not a very good day for you, was it?" Phineas said chirpily, as if he was very happy about something.

"No it was not. What else have you heard?"

The portrait laughed heartily. "Oh, the things we paintings hear, you mortals only wish you could know."

Like everybody, Sirius hated when he was teased with information that was then withheld. It was not right to dangle information that you had no intentions of sharing.

"So you eavesdrop on the whole world," Sirius said in between a long yawn, "It's hardly something to be proud of."

Sirius tucked himself under the bedsheets and turned on his side to make himself more comfortable. No doubt if Phineas thought his conversation was putting Sirius to sleep, he would try to liven it up by giving a tidbit of information he wanted to know.

"Sirius," Phineas said as loudly as possible, "I couldn't help overhearing your many cries for Kreacher-"

Sirius ears perked up but he pretended he was still trying to rest.

"-It may interest you to know that I may have a solid clue as to his whereabouts. And don't pretend you are sleeping. You've been desperately looking for him all day and if there is one thing I know, it is that we Blacks do not give up so easily."

The portrait waited a moment longer for Sirius to take the bait but Sirius kept stubbornly quiet.

"You do not fool me Sirius, and you cannot harm me, so you are not in a bargaining position. I am," Phineas's smug voice echoed "Quite simply put, you need the information I hold."

Abruptly, Sirius threw off the bedspread and sat up to face the blank canvas through which Phineas' voice came.

"What do you know?" Sirius demanded impatiently.

"Uh, uh, uh! I will only give this information when you have obliged certain requests of mine...You have done little to recommend yourself to me, so I am in no mood to do you favours free of cost."

"How about I finish what I started and completely destroy you?"

Phineas laughed, "It would gain you little. Not that it matters to me, I am already dead."

"What do you want?"

If the portrait had not been wiped clean, Sirius could have sworn he'd see his ancestor's face gloating as he relished his new power. His family put the 'black' in blackmail.

"First of all-and it really not much to ask, considering you should fix what you break-I want you to restore my portrait, completely."

"I'd rather not."

"Why?"

"I'd just be tempted to destroy it again."

The empty portrait emitted a hearty chuckle, "Which brings me to my second condition: that you place a permanent sticking charm."

"Fuck."

"Curious manners you have...Nobleman never spoke so crudely in my day, it was regarded as self-debasing."

This is exactly why he didn't want another of his family's portraits in the house, chiding him and telling him why he could never live up to the family. It was more than enough having Walburga Black permanently on the walls.

"Are those all your conditions or is there more?" Sirius asked impatiently. If Phineas tried to request more than three things, he was going to call the deal off. Something about Phineas made his skin crawl; it was why he had destroyed the portrait.

"No, I have one more, simple, request...I know you may care nothing for the Black family name and the sanctity of ancestral honour but I personally do not want to see our great lineage end with you."

"What exactly are you asking?"

"Only that you produce a heir before you die."

"You call that a simple request!" he exclaimed "Do you really think I'm going to produce a child just to hear some stupid thing you have to say about Kreacher?"

Sirius barked with laughter but he was interreupted by Phineas' cold voice.

"It's a simple request because I'm not asking for its immediate completion. Obviously, we are not going to wait nine months. You can do it at anytime as long as you make an unbreakable vow right now."

"You're out of your mind. Though you're right about one thing, I couldn't give care less about preserving the Black family name!"

"If that is the way you intend to be, I suppose you might as well die a disgrace for you are of use whatsover to the Black family."

"Die? What are you talking about?" Sirius said, panic seeping into his voice.

"Only that your life may depend upon the information I have," Phineas said coolly.

"You're bluffing."

"No, I'm not...Now unless you want to die, do we have a deal?"

"Never."

"You are being completely unreasonable Sirius. From what I've heard of Ms. Tonks, a permittably eligible lady, you could easily perform your function and be done with it. Though I'd rather you wait longer in order to find a pureblood. Ginny perhaps in a few years when she is ripe in the bud. Young girls are easily controlled..."

The man was sick. Sirius felt gladder than ever that he had not done anything with Tonks.

"I think I'll take my chances with death than make a deal with you," Sirius said in disgust, walking out of the room.

"You fool! You will die as a result of your own folly!" Phineas called out behind him.

What a snake. If Sirius had been a Slytherin, he would have no doubt accepted the offer to save his own skin. But he was not like his family. He was a Gryffindor and would hold by principles even in the face of death. Although he was shaken by Phineas' ominous warning, Sirius refused to give in. It was probably not true anyways, he told himself. How could he possibly die while he stayed in Grimmauld Place?

In the meantime, he absolutely had to find Kreacher and wring the truth out of him.

* * *

><p>It was late into the night and Kreacher was still nowhere to be found. Either Kreacher had long left the house or he was deliberately hiding because Sirius had thoroughly searched the house three times over. Phineas' death warning weighed heavily on his chest but there was no one he could talk to. Remus had become unreachable and Dumbledore, even if Sirius did contact him, was unlikely to be of any help. As for the Order, Sirius had little more to tell except that a portrait had warned him of his eminent demise. Mad-Eye replied by owl to say that Sirius should not worry as long as he stayed inside the house. Evidently, Mad-Eye did not seem concerned by the portrait's warning.<p>

At this point, there was little more he could do than pray.

Sirius rarely ever prayed, except when death was close. The wizarding world knew that there was life after death with the same certainty that they knew the sky was blue and the grass was green. Evidence was in abundance around them in the form of ghosts. Ghosts visibly lurked around in broad daylight and spoke with, and even befriended, the living. What was less clear was the existence of god and less still, the expectations god had of people, if any. A shroud of mystery kept the answers to these questions elusive. Ghosts did not know the answers because their souls still had not left the earth for the other side.

Sirius could not deny he was curious what lay on the other side but he was not curious enough to die early in order to find out. He could wait.

_It can't be my time, _he pleaded silently,_ I just know it can't be. I've waited too long in prison to die now that I am almost free._

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

><p>Author's note:<p>

For those of you who remember reading the Order of the Phoenix, you know the conversation with Harry about Snape's worst memory is taken from the book, though I shortened their lines and, of course, wrote it from Sirius' perspective. I'm trying to follow the timeline set out in the books while also giving my own spin on things.

Machiavelli is such a creepy philosopher but completely entertaining. I recommend you google him.


	9. The Invisible Woman

**Chapter 9: The Invisible Woman **

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><p><em>Sirius sat in his cell observing the familiar stone walls and iron gates of Askaban. For some reason he could not <em>

_understand, the cell was no longer dark. The warm hot glow of sun filtered through his window along with the_

_sounds of birds chirping. It was sweltering hot. How long had he been here that he had not noticed the arrival of_

_summer?_

_He could not even remember how long he had been in Askaban but he was not panicked. Maybe it was the intense heat_

_that made him drowsy and hazy, like he needed to lie down and sleep. __He listened __for awhile to the birds singing outside_

_ but as their singing got louder and stronger so did his need to escape. He got up and gazed __longingly_

_out the window before turning towards the iron __gate of his cell. He did not know why but he knew now if he pushed at it, _

_the door would open. _

_Sure enough, the __rusty gate opened with a tired moan as he pushed his way past._

_The other cells of his row were also empty with the iron gated doors lazily open. He wandered down the hall, observing _

_the empty cells. Why had he hated this place? It was not so bad. There were no dementors here. They could not inhabit _

_such a glowing, luminous place. Dementors inhabited dark, cold places._

_Sirius wandered through Askaban looking for the exit. He was no longer afraid of the prison but neither did he want to _

_stay. Something inside him told him that he needed to be out there in the real world. Where the birds were. Not here. _

_But a voice stopped him in his__ search for the exit._

_'Sirius, don't go! I am here,' a soft voice cried in his ear._

_Sirius whipped around but there was no one behind him._

_"Who is there? Where are you?"_

_"I am here," the small voice said once again in his ear, as if she were __whispering right into it so that he could feel her _

_breath on him. __Once again Sirius__ turned around but no one was there._

_"Where?"_

_"Here," the voice said and he felt a warm hand grasp his own. This time __as he turned he saw her small hand but nothing _

_more as she disappeared into __thin air once more._

_"Why do you hide from me?" Sirius said in frustration._

_"I don't, I stand in plain sight. You hide from me."_

_"A likely story," he said as he crossed his arms. He looked back down the hall for the exit, the birds still chirped madly_

_outside telling him in wild tongues that he had to escape. Dammit, there has to be an exit somewhere..._

_He jumped as the voice spoke in his ear again._

_"I need you Sirius."_

_Suddenly he felt her lay her whole body against his back and at once __he could tell she was naked. As he tried to grab hold _

_of her naked body, she once more disappeared. __But this time he had caught a glance of her long beautiful hair._

_Sirius stood rotating in every direction around him, trying to catch a look at her before she snuck up on him again._

_He __was getting increasingly impatient to see who this teasing beauty was. His whole __body was in excruciatingly tension._

_"You say you need me but you leave and play games with me?" __he said gently __"__Now how is that fair?" _

_He outstretched his hand into the air, hoping she would take it, __and finally reveal herself to him._

_"I can't be seen until you see me first," the voice said from a distance._

_"BUT I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING!" Sirius exclaimed. He ran madly in the direction he thought her voice had come from_

_but the prison turned dark and cold as the prison gates __started to close one by one._

_"Wait, don't go!" he said into the darkness though he felt __instinctively that she had already gone. "COME BACK!"_

_He fought against the iron gate closing up open him, threatening to put __him back into a dark cell. Sirius pushed his whole _

_weight against the rusted iron __bars but it was too late. _

_The iron gate clicked shut and nothing he could __do would open it up again._

_He looked back out the window, the hovering cloaked figures of dementors passed by in thick black swarms__. _

_Not one bird could be heard._

* * *

><p>Sirius awoke in a cold sweat, his heart racing.<p>

Somehow he was both frightened, frustrated and physically excited all at the same time.

'_I can't be seen until you see me first.'_

Why did women have to be so complicated, even in dreams? This one spoke only in riddles yet expected him to fully understand her. Stupid tart.

The worst part is that she left him to die completely unsatisfied.

_Damn woman._ There was no way he was going to take a dreamless sleeping draught this night or the next night or the night after that. He had to see her again even if it meant facing dementors while he waited for her to return.

.

.

.

* * *

><p>Author's note:<p>

Can you tell that Sirius' dream is trying to tell him something? If you look closely, you'll see many symbols that his unconscious uses to try to tell him something. I won't say more except that the warm, sunny Askaban symbolizes his new imprisonment at Grimmauld Place. Staying locked up at Grimmauld Place is a prison for Sirius but there is something that could bring light and warmth to it.

Please review, so I can write faster!


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